


Contained, but Uncontrolled

by missmollyetc



Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers Time Force
Genre: M/M, PWP, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 13:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14521680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmollyetc/pseuds/missmollyetc
Summary: Eric has no clue how he got to this point, but it's probably Wes' fault.





	Contained, but Uncontrolled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSecondBatgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSecondBatgirl/gifts).



> Hey! So, this is not the one hooker!AU story I promised you (because that one turns out to need more story!) but I wanted to get you something to tide you over in the meantime so here you go! <3 I hope you like it!
> 
> Thanks to Celli for the excellent beta!

Eric knows they’re on borrowed time, time when they should be studying, time when they should be making connections, meeting the right people to invite them to the right parties to the right companies to the right families with the right daughters. The pep talks Wes’ dad gives him make sense to Eric; the people Wes shakes off to spend time with _him_ instead hold the keys to changing Wes’ silver spoon into gold. If Eric had been born with any kind of spoon at all in his mouth, it’d been plastic and disposable.

And there’s no advantage here for Eric, no one’s handing out internships for fucking the rich man’s _son_ , and his scholarship to their school isn’t going to survive getting caught, but Wes. 

But Wes.

Golden Wes with the kind eyes and the pretty mouth and the stubborn chin, and the way he always stays after Karate club practice to help Eric put the mats away. The way he plays keep away with the keys Eric needs to lock up; the way he laughs when Eric takes him down five seconds faster than the last time he tried to play that game. His quick hands and how fast his thighs part for Eric when he presses Wes against the wall.

He’s laughing now, giggling into Eric’s neck and dragging him back to their shared dorm. His gi jacket hangs open over one of Eric’s t-shirts. Eric’s skin is tight against his body, constraining. His clothes hang too heavily. Wes vibrates while Eric gets their dorm room open, leaning back with his uniform loose and his hands in his pockets, staring at Eric like—like—like something. Like someone.

“Fuck, when I see you run the beginners through their paces,” Wes says. “Jesus Christ.”

The back of Eric’s neck burns when Wes looks at him like that. Someone will _see_ and Wes doesn’t need to care. There’s a thousand schools his dad will pay to straighten out his only son, there’s only so many that take in strays.

Eric frowns and steps inside their room quickly, moving aside so Wes can join him, and putting his keys in the bowl on his dresser by his bed. He takes off his green belt and folds it properly before laying it down on his bed, then undoes the inner strings tying his gi together. He turns around at the sound of the lock turning, and Wes is shirtless, leaning back on the door. His jacket and t-shirt are on the floor. He dips his chin and Eric sees the pink tip of his tongue dip along his curving mouth.

He takes a deep breath, and Eric can see the rise and fall of Wes’ belly, the slight shudder of his chest as he exhales. His nipples are that soft brown that’s almost pink, and he’s losing his surfer tan to freckles. 

The inside of Eric’s mouth dries out fast when Wes’s hands slide to his own waistband and hover over the thin ties holding his gi pants at his hips. His skin prickles and heats, and he rubs his hands over his thighs. His cock thickens in his boxers, and Wes’s head thunks against the door.

Eric flinches. He strides across the room and stops in front of Wes, so close that he can feel Wes’ knuckles brush against his stomach.

“Knock it off,” he says. “You don’t have enough brains to lose by hurting yourself.”

Wes grins. “Like I haven’t put you on the floor enough times to take you down a few IQ points?”

Wes laughs. Eric frowns, and knocks Wes’ hands out from between them. They settle on his hips, and Eric rolls his eyes. He steps closer and Wes’ legs part. Eric swallows, and Wes’ big brown eyes focus on his mouth; his hands tighten. It’s like gravity, falling into him, holding Wes where Eric wants him.

This isn’t his thing to want, it’s not in the plan that got Eric to prep school and will take him all the way to the top—wherever that is. But sometime after summer, after junior year turned into senior, Wes became Eric’s to have. He doesn’t remember how it happened, he’d been working all the hours in the day for fall semester, and he’d seen Wes in town on his way to the beach and his friends and his father’s oceanside view, and suddenly there was Wes eating lunch in his section, ordering coffee and never leaving. 

His stomach clenches for some reason, and Eric shakes it off. Dinner’s not for another hour and he’s got Wes blushing all the way down his chest in front of him. He leans in and Wes opens up for him, soft lips and eager tongue, and the heat of his skin under Eric’s hands. He holds on, and Wes bucks in his grasp. Their dicks brush together, and Wes wraps his leg around the back of Eric’s knee. He grabs Eric’s shoulders; Eric grunts and thrusts back. He bites Wes’ lower lip.

Wes moans and tilts his head away, presses too hard kisses against the side of Eric’s face up to his ear. “C’mon, c’mon,” he says. “My bed’s better than this door.”

Eric bites the arch of Wes’ neck, and Wes shakes against him. He grins and raises his head. “You sure about that?”

He plants his feet and grinds upwards, pushing Wes back against the door so hard it rattles and Wes’ hands dig sharply into his shoulders. His boxers are damp in his trousers, slick with precome. Wes moans, his eyelids sinking lower, and Eric freezes. He swallows, and holds Wes close, straining to hear. There’s nothing.

“Okay, bed,” he says, and stumbles back.

Wes laughs shakily, and starts untying his pants, letting them crumple on the floor. At least it’s his side of the room this time. He’s got tight dark underwear on, small enough to be panties, and something must show on Eric’s face, because Wes flushes bright pink.

“They’re European!” he says, and whips them at Eric’s head.

Eric dodges. He takes off his jacket and hangs it on the hook high on the door. “Sure they are.”

Wes collapses onto his messy unmade bed, and spreads his legs, and somehow Eric’s straddling him with no memory of how he got away from the door. He bends down and takes Wes’ mouth again, sliding his tongue deep inside. Wes whimpers, and Eric feels Wes’ palm curl over between his legs. He rubs Eric’s cock through his pants, open-handed and soft, never squeezing, making Eric thrust up for any kind of friction.

Eric breaks away with a gasp, turning his head to the side. “You’re getting better at that.”

“You’re a great teacher,” Wes says. He slides his hands up and underneath Eric’s t-shirt, pushing the thin fabric up to his armpits, and then rests his hands on Eric’s chest while Eric tosses his shirt aside.

Eric takes a breath and tilts his head back. His skin feels so tight like he could explode any minute, like all the crap he takes during the day is going to burst out and he could fucking do anything, just anything, he doesn’t know. He shudders and Wes drags his short nails down his chest to his belly.

Eric moans and curls downward, chasing the lightning bolts down his chest as they die out until Wes’s mouth is underneath his and Wes’ tongue is past his teeth. He moans and sucks hard. Wes bucks underneath him.

They take Eric’s pants and underwear off together. Wes is always too helpful; his hands get in the way, dodging Eric’s slaps and pinching his hips until Eric is a shaking, naked mess on top of him. He digs his fingers into the meat of Eric’s ass as they rub against each other, holding him too close. Wes’ cock feels too hot against Eric’s crackling skin. He’s longer than Eric and gets less wet, and Eric puts his head in the crook of Wes’ neck as he moves over him. His right hand digs into Wes’ soft hair, pulling his neck back. 

His cock leaks out another stream of precome, like a river dampening their bodies. His stomach clenches, heart pounding. He can smell the scraps of Wes’ body wash in the space behind his ear. Wes moans and scratches his back, it feels like Eric’s skin is going to crack open and he wants it.

He can’t seem to stop moving, grinding hard into Wes’ body and biting his shoulder, and it used to be practice wore him out. It used to be he got warm and loose and _tired_ from a good bout, but now it’s like he needs Wes’ nails in his skin, his legs tangling with Eric’s and pushing them closer until he might as well be inside Wes. Might as well be caught and held and _kept_ like an idiot.

He stutters on a gasp, and Wes turns his face into Eric’s cheek. He licks his jawline and nuzzles into his neck, moaning with that catch in his throat that says he’s about to come. His hips jerk beneath Eric.

“I want—I want,” Eric says, panting against Wes’ ear. 

Wes nods over and over again. “Yeah, okay,” he says, and Wes is always so fucking like that. Like he doesn’t get that Eric has to take everything Wes was just given and Wes just—he just _hands_ it out. There is no one like Wes in the world, no one ever, and Eric wants to swallow him whole.

The bed shakes beneath them, cheap little single that is, and Eric gets up on his elbows. Wes’ legs curl up around his hips, and then he flexes, bending inward, and Eric’s cock slips below. His vision goes grey at the edges, and Wes freezes below him.

Eric stares down into Wes’ wide eyes. Wes’ mouth is open, his lips are bruised red and so wet they shine. He swallows and Eric sees the deep flexing of his throat.

“I don’t—” Wes swallows. “I don’t have, um, anything.”

Eric nods, feels his dark hair whipping around his forehead. “No, I…I know, neither do I, I just—”

“I’d let you,” Wes interrupts, and his face turns blotchy. Eric puts his hand on Wes’ forehead, he doesn’t know why, and Wes starts to smile. “We could?”

Eric shivers, a full body muscle-shaking roil that presses him back against Wes’ body. He smiles, he thinks he does anyway, and takes Wes’ cock in his hand. Wes whines. His eyes shut as he turns his face into Eric’s hand.

“We will,” Eric says, and he’s proud his voice comes out so steady. “We can—we can get—”

He feels his stomach tighten, his hips jerk and curl. He pulls his hand away from Wes’ face and ignores the way his tongue feels dragging up Eric’s fingers, and then wraps his hand around Wes’ balls. Wes clamps his hand over his own mouth and screams.

Eric feels lopsided, like he’s going to fall, and the only thing holding him in place are Wes’ nails in his left shoulder. He rubs Wes’ balls and pulls on his cock, pushing his thumb into the head just like he likes. His cock is making a slick mess against Wes’ ass as he fucks against him.

Eric thrusts against Wes’ ass and holds his breath while Wes moans and draws him in with his legs. He squeezes his hand around Wes’ cock, holding tight as he builds his rhythm back up until he’s—he could almost really be fucking Wes, he could be inside him right now. Wes is bouncing on the bed. His nails jab down into Eric’s skin, make him grunt behind clenched teeth. Fuck, he could make Eric bleed.

Wes drags his hand down Eric’s side, across the scratches he left already, and Eric drags air into his lungs and freezes as lightning strikes erupt out of his skin again and then flare down deep into his belly. He lets go of Wes’ cock to grip the sheets and blankets, shaking as he comes, striping the bed and Wes with come, making a mess of the pretty golden boy below him.

He falls to the side, putting his back to the wall by the bed, and Wes curls over with him. The world is soft-edged and Eric feels his skin stretch warmly, a perfect fit. He slings his arm around Wes’ body and pushes his thigh between Wes’ legs, kissing him as Wes rubs off against him. He’s shaking against Eric, hot and hard, and Eric gives him his hand again. He curls it around Wes’ cock, and rubs the circumcision scar beneath the head, and squeezes tightly just like Wes likes, so hard his dick turns red. Wes whimpers into Eric’s mouth when he comes.

They settle into the bed, and Eric’s already drowsy. He eyes the sink in their room from across the way, and Wes kisses his shoulder. When he lays back, Eric swipes his fingers across Wes’ mouth. Wes grins.


End file.
